


blue and lovely

by campholmes



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: 90s AU, F/F, Trans Katya, fashionista both of them, pussy and ass, trans violet, visual artist katya, womens artsy womens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 19:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18059018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campholmes/pseuds/campholmes
Summary: “I wish you would stay,” Katya whispers, up against the back of Violet’s neck. “It’s an important day for me, and I wish we could spend the rest of it together, upstairs with champagne.”Violet is dragged (against her will) to an opening. Katya has been waiting for a woman after her own heart. They fuck. That's all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yekaterina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yekaterina/gifts).



> hello. this is a birthday gift for my dear friend and bro @yekaterina. he died but i thought he might still like this from beyond the grave because there's a lot of pussy (also because i did not have another gift planned and i have no money). i hope that the second chapter lives up to the hype of the first. i love you bro, and i hope that your twenties are full of fulfilling dreams, becoming everything you deserve to be, and being even more unapologetic and intelligent than you already are (which is a lot)! thank you for being a friend <3 i cherish you, and i am so lucky to know you.
> 
> this work is titled after trip shakespeare's Diane.

Violet re-adjusts her crop top for what feels like the tenth time in as many minutes. The bus rattles down the street, snow slapping up against the windows, thrown to the side by the windshield wipers. She clutches her leather purse close to her side, shivers in her purple faux fur coat and thin nylons. It’s too damn cold for this shit, and she’s made certain that Alaska knows that, too. She has half a mind to wrangle her cell out of her purse and shit talk her down the line again, but she can’t be bothered. She’s going to use the favor Alaska owes her well at some future time.

Alaska had been the one who had insisted, amidst much excitement, to introduce Violet to some Katie, who was having some art show, that Violet come today. It’s 2pm on a Saturday, in freezing, damp January, and Violet is risking her entire hairstyle in the heavy snow to make it on time. The bust creaks and and wobbles concerningly, and she clutches onto the bar next to her seat tighter. The man across from her makes a kissy face.

She’s grateful to see what she believes is the gallery up the block, and pulls for her stop as she stands, walks to wait near the door. Nobody has moved behind her, the man seeming to have turned his interest to an older woman sitting further back. Violet rolls her eyes, and thanks the driver as she leaves.

Much as she wants to put on airs of annoyance for Alaska’s benefit, she’s actually excited to be here- she’s been cooped up in her tiny apartment for the past week or so, beading and sewing for an upcoming performance that she can’t quite muster up much excitement for. It isn’t a lack of motivation, it’s more a bone-deep exhaustion that prevents her from practicing in front of the mirrors in her once-dining-room, now-studio. She eats in the kitchen, standing at the counter. Or (usually) lying on the couch.

She tromps through the snow that’s built up on the sidewalk since the last shoveling, shakes off her coat a little before turning the knob of the bright red door to the gallery, checking once to make sure the address matches what Alaska had given her. She can hear voices inside, and the house that the gallery seems to be situated in is painted in reds and yellows, at the very corner of a block. It sticks out, is what most neighbors may call an eyesore, or too much, but Violet loves it. It looks even more exquisite in the snow. She briefly wonders who had the nerve to paint an entire three-story Victorian so damn communist. 

Her curiosity is rewarded the moment she pushes the door open. A short woman, with blunt bangs and long blonde curls, a deep red lip, and thick-framed tortiseshell cat-eye glasses covering raccoon eyes stands right in the entryway. She’s wearing a kelly green cashmere sweater, a turtleneck that’s either artfully or haphazardly scrunched around her long, elegant neck, and an IKB wool skirt that stops right at her ankles, so that Violet gets a small peek of wide fishnets over smooth, toned calves, and bright red socks that match her red clogs perfectly. She has an oversized, fringed Russian scarf draped across her back and over her elbows, and is holding a mug of coffee.

All of it is quite a bit to take in, and Violet can feel her eyes widen and then squint, as she scans up and down the woman’s small body. Her tits are tiny and perky, braless, and Violet is enchanted. She guesses that this must be Katie.

“Hello! Hello, are you here for the show?” The woman speaks a little rushed, jumbling her words over a very light accent, the kind that Violet thinks must come from being a first-generation European-American. Just a little lilt in her words, one that causes her to enunciate.

“Yeah, hi, I’m a close friend of Alaska’s? I’m Violet,” she smiles, and takes the woman’s available hand, the one not holding the steaming coffee mug. She has short, red nails, and she nods seemingly in recognition of who Violet could be.

“Katya. This is my house, and my gallery. So glad you could come! Alaska is inside, with the others. There is coffee, and tea, and some little snacks. Please come in, you are letting the snow in behind you.” Katya leans in and kisses Violet’s cheeks, making tiny smacking noises for each. She grins with large, white teeth, and shoos Violet past her, down the tiny hall to enter the main room.

Violet is immediately in love with the place- it’s bright and warm, the walls of what must have been previous downstairs rooms have either been knocked out or left as smaller pillars, where Katya’s artwork hangs proudly. All of her work is either drawings or massive, grody paintings, ones that reach from the floor to the ceiling. There are a few TVs set up as well, playing dark short films. 

More people than Violet expected to be attending are milling about, chatting, laughing, and staring at everything Katya has made. Violet spots Alaska, by a large portrait, and makes her way over. She’s talking with a woman Violet has never met, and she smiles awkwardly as she inserts herself into their conversation.

“Oh, hi, baby! Trixie, this is my friend Violet, I was just telling you she would be here,” Alaska says all of it painfully slowly. It calms Violet’s nerves a little bit. Trixie, the woman with the big, blonde hair and a terrible pink and orange dress on, sticks her hand out to shake with a smirk. 

“Hi. Great to meet you! I heard that ‘Laska here is trying to set you up with the woman of the hour-” Alaska grunts, shakes her head, before Violet can snap back.

“No, no! Just introducing them. They’re my best friends, and I stand by that.” Trixie rolls her eyes, but laughs a little bit, and Violet tenses up. “Vi- I’m serious!” 

She rolls her eyes, and before she can even open her mouth, a hand is on her upper back, palm between her shoulder blades. And Katya’s face is around her side, grinning. 

“My favorite women. All together,” Katya says serenely. Trixie takes one of her hands and kisses it, right on her knuckles. Violet’s eyes twitch at how her lips leave a pink mark. Katya’s hands look soft as anything, and she does not remove the hand on Violet’s back. “Thank you Tracy. I’m so happy to have you all here. All of you beautiful hoes. Has everyone eaten?” 

Her hand is still pressing into Violet’s jacket. It’s making her jaw ache, and she sees Alaska watching her with a twinkle in her eye. 

They make their way over to eat, and Violet lets Alaska and Trixie speak for the majority of the conversation. Eventually she breaks off from them to look at Katya’s work, half because she can feel Katya’s phantom hand on her back. She can feel her heartbeat there when she hears Katya speak from across the room.

Before she knows it, Alaska and Trixie have gone. She’s embarrassed that she didn’t notice them leave, nor did she notice that the entire opening seems to be winding down. There are less than a third of the people there that had been there when Violet arrived, and Katya is stacking plates at the table.

She makes to find her jacket, which she had given to a short woman with long braids earlier, when she feels the presence she’s been waiting to feel again, all evening, up against her.

“I wish you would stay,” Katya whispers, up against the back of Violet’s neck. “It’s an important day for me, and I wish we could spend the rest of it together, upstairs with champagne.”

Violet shivers- the plastic of Katya’s glasses is rustling through her hair, and the heat of her body is radiating against Violet’s spine. It makes her back straighten. Katya’s fingers slide under her crop top, tickling at her sides.

“Will you stay?” Violet’s throat is stuck. She cannot respond, so she grips the fingers that Katya is slowly sliding around to her belly. Katya hums, holds her very close and tight for a moment, and then holds her loosely by the arm, calling more accented goodbyes.

Katya keeps Violet close beside her, arm candy to wish everyone a good-night. Violet imagines that they must look quite the pair, and she feels a thrill deep in her gut as Katya guides her with three fingers on her lower back, to the front door with some of Katya’s guests. 

“Au revoir! Goodbye, thank you so much. You do come back. I would love to have you over for dinner,” Katya gushes to a short lesbian couple. Both of them have shocks of grey hair, they are holding hands, and Violet appreciates the spectacle the four of them make, two pairs of women. The women leave, waving, and Violet catches a glimpse of how much the snow has piled up, feels the stinging cold air on the bare skin of her stomach.

Katya makes the rounds to bid everyone adieu. She shakes hands, and kisses cheeks, and her flush grows as she does so. She’s so full of energy and open with love that Violet can’t stop grinning and giggling as she flounces around. She wants to rest her elbow on Katya’s head, she’s so short beside her. Something tells her that Katya would love it. By the end of the night, every move Katya makes causes Violet to grow softer, more pliable, more likely to follow her around, to the kitchen to drop off the last of the dishes, to the front room to turn off the lights.

She follows truly like a lost puppy when Katya leads her upstairs, to the bedroom, and then feels very lonely once she leaves to the kitchen for a moment.

Katya’s bed is covered in crumpled grey sheets, a matching comforter. Violet strips as she waits for Katya to make her tea, lounges naked and twists a little strand fallen out of her ponytail around her pointer finger. She hears the kettle whistle in the kitchen, and Katya’s footsteps back to the room.

Katya’s hair has been pulled back in a messy ponytail, her bangs are ruffled, and she’s carrying her mug of tea is if it’s the most precious item she’s ever held. Her nails gleam in the dimness of her room, and she sets her mug down on the dresser delicately.

“Beautiful,” she whispers gruffly as Violet holds out a palm towards her. Katya takes it- her shawl is gone, but she’s still wearing the rest of her woolen clothes.

“Strip for me?” Violet whispers. Katya blushes all down her neck. She nods, kisses Violet’s knuckles, leaving a big red mark (Violet wasn’t jealous, but she wants to rub it in Trixie’s face), and drops her hand before bringing her own to her waist. She pulls the green sweater out of her waistband, her toned stomach bare beneath it. Her knuckles look beautiful when wrapped up around the bottom of the sweater, and Violet delights in her braless breasts bouncing the tiniest bit as she pulls it up over them. Her little nipples harden immediately in the cool room, and Violet can see how her flush drops down her entire chest. 

She struggles a little at pulling the sweater over her chunky glasses, and giggles beneath it. Violet laughs too, and sits up on her heels on the bed while Katya is blinded by cashmere to place all of her cold fingers on Katya’s stomach. She jerks the sweater upwards, and then her lips are on Violet’s, kissing her warmly, open and messy. Katya drops the sweater on the wood floor, off to the side, and then wraps both of her bare arms around Violet’s back.

She falls onto Violet’s lap, the scratchy wool of her shirt scraping her thighs and aching dick, and her answering whimper has Katya digging her nails into her shoulders. 

Katya pulls away, then, as Violet whimpers. 

“I’m not done,” she says. Her clogged feet knock against the floor again, and Violet watches patiently as Katya’s gentle hands unbutton her skirt and she allows it to drop, down to the ground, pooling around her feet. Her fishnets frame her sloping legs gracefully, and her dick curves upwards to her stomach, beneath her high-waisted blue underwear.

Katya puts one hand on Violet’s head, right between her mussed buns, pressing her fingers into her skull so she aches, a little. Her lips are smeared, down her chin and up to her dainty nose. She’s breathing harder, Violet assumes because she knows that she is beautiful. Violet is sure that her eyes are wide, taking as much of Katya’s body in as she can. She feels unbelievably lucky. Katya’s glasses are still on, falling down her nose a bit.

Katya stands for a moment, arm reaching to Violet, hip cocked to the side. Violet is mesmerized by how her stomach heaves, her belly button going up and down, how she bites her bottom lip and stares down at Violet. It gets Violet harder, causes her hips to shift down into the bed. It feels like Katya is pushing her down, to drown in the sheets. She has some freckles on her stomach and arms, and her fingers leave Violet’s hair, hook into her fishnets to pull them down. 

She leaves her underwear on, near soaked with how wet she is already, and Violet’s fingers go straight to the waist of them, over Katya’s soft muscles, when Katya sits back down on the bed, noses Violet’s cheek. It’s nearly off-puttingly romantic for a second, before Violet slips under, with a rumbling sigh that makes Katya smirk against her neck. She inches Katya’s underwear down, cups her dick so she breathes a shaky, melting breath.

Violet bends forward and kisses both of Katya’s nipples, making certain to give special attention to pushing her lips as lush and soft as she can- she leaves purple lipstick marks around both of them, and Katya’s breasts squish delightfully beneath her mouth. It gets Katya started on sighing long and dreamy, dragging an arm up and down Violet’s side. Violet bites the side of her right breast, sucking down so that Katya’s sighs become deeper and heavier, and her hand stills on Violet’s skin.

“Oh,” Katya breathes as Violet bites sharply down on her nipple. “Oh my god, Violet, come on.”

Violet laughs, releases her teeth and kisses her nipple again. Katya’s nipples are precious, they perk up for her, and Katya pinches whichever one Violet is not kissing herself. She licks over Katya’s fingers, and the tiny bud between them, and Katya sobs.

Her hair is falling down, and Violet gestures so that she turns around to sit on her soft ass, runs her hands through the heavy curls and pulls them up again. Katya twists back to kiss Violet, as if she can’t help herself.

“Katya.” She twists further, lands herself gently on top of Violet, spreading the both of them out so that they’re lying down, heads mostly on the pillows. Her hand goes to Violet’s dick, and the first gentle swipe of her thumb nearly makes her sob. She holds it in, a little, but for a small gasp that makes Katya giggle.

Katya’s glasses are fogging up, and Violet raises her eyebrows even as Katya jerks her dick with a featherlight touch. It makes Katya laugh from her belly, giving Violet a warm flow of something tingling to her neck and shoulders. Violet’s cups her cheeks, her light foundation coming off a little on her fingertips, and takes her glasses off, rests them on the wooden side table.

Katya’s bedroom is massive, and very minimalist, but cozy. Her bed is in the middle of it all, the light wood floors and white walls, the tall lamps in the corner that spread warm light throughout. Katya scoots down the bed, tiny ass bouncing, and kisses Violet’s hips, grips her dick too tightly for a second, and then she’s standing, stretching up, patting Violet on the head. Her dick is curved upwards, she looks almost uncomfortably hard, but she smiles contentedly.

“Champagne,” she says. And turns, and walks out of the bedroom with her curls flying behind her, but Violets’ eyes are only for her ass and the back of her thighs. They are so pale, smooth as milk, and she’s desperate to touch. “Stay there, good girl. My dear.”

Violet can hear her singing softly in the kitchen, and she imagines her, looking dramatic in her smeared makeup, standing naked, barefoot on the tile, reaching for champagne glasses in the cupboard. Probably rubbing her dick a little. It makes her whine. She spreads her arms as if she’s making a snow angel in Katya’s bed, reaches to the edges she can’t touch. She feels decadent, and she’s so hard, dripping with need for who she’s certain is a woman from a dream- Alaska was right. The bitch.

Katya comes back with the champagne glasses between her fingers, carrying the bottle with a bulging vein to match in her right arm. She hands a glass to Violet, pours it half-full. 

“Dear, thank you for coming,” Katya puts on a voice, then snorts. Violet can’t help but to pull her into a kiss, just a quick one, before she pours her own glass.

“Is this your first opening?” Violet asks. Katya nods, her eyes twinkling as she sips her drink. “Congratulations, babe.”

“Thank you so much.” Katya smiles wider than Violet’s seen yet. Her accent is more pronounced, her voice thick with bubbles. “I’m so proud of it. I’ve been planning it really since my twenties, and now I’m old and grizzled, I thought, why not? It’s as good a time as any. I wasn’t want for anything, except for how scared I was to put myself out there,” Katya says. Violet nods, flicks her eyes to Katya’s open wardrobe and all of the bright colors, bizarre prints. She’s certain that a good portion is custom-made. 

“Your parent’s…?” Violet mumbles. Katya laughs again, sits beside her, wraps a hand around her bicep. She rests her chin on Violet’s shoulder, her hair gets in Violet’s mouth.

“My inheritance. Grandparents. But it’s not like my parents haven’t had a lot to do with it. It’s really hard to talk about without sounding like a fucking monster, you know. It’s not like I haven’t had my share of shit, but it doesn’t really matter, with how much I’ve got. Moya babushka was blessedly in the ground long before someone let slip that I was a woman.” Violet snorts. Katya downs the rest of her champagne and crawls further onto the bed.

“I want you to kiss my tits again,” Katya breathes, and Violet sets her glass on the floor and goes about doing just that.

Katya’s untouched mug of tea is steaming on the bedside table, and Katya reaches for Violet’s breasts, squeezing her ribs and then her waist, running her warm hands all over, her, digging her fingertips into the top of her ass. Violet cries, and presses herself harder against Katya, wanting to feel all of her up and down. She wants to link their toes together, suck on her tongue for an hour.

Katya finally spreads Violet out- slaps her ass once (a thousand times too few), holds her wrists apart on the bed before releasing them so Violet knows where Katya wants her to lie, and brings her lips to Violet’s dick. The champagne and Katya’s tongue lathing over her slowly, and then the hot suction of the inside of her cheeks, are going right to Violet’s head, and Katya’s hair has fallen down completely, flowing over her muscled back and onto Violet’s sensitive thighs.

“Katya-” she says. Her throat hurts from the strain. “Please could you-”

Katya slaps her thigh before she can say another word, and tears spring to her eyes at the sharp pain coupled with Katya’s mouth around her dick. Katya’s breasts are pillows on Violet’s knees, her nipples dragging across her skin. Katya is moaning around her. She slaps Violet’s opposite thigh, and Violet is embarrassingly close to coming.

But Katya leaves her again, crawling back up to her mouth to kiss her over and over, pinching her nipples and making so that Violet holds her ass in both hands. She’s precious, and small, and sweaty against her, and both of their makeup is making a mess. One of Violet’s buns has regrettably deflated, and Katya pokes it and laughs at her.

“You- gorgeous,” she says, as Violet begins to rub the head of her dick, where it’s pressed against Violet’s stomach. Katya seems to like a lazy horniness spent in bed, less purposeful fucking and more staring into Violet’s eyes, holding her rock hard dick, kissing behind her ears. “Can I make you come now?”

Violet nods frantically, Katya’s toes curling again and again on her calf. Katya laughs, loud and musical, and she pulls up some of the sheets to cradle Violet’s hips. There are little bruises on Violet’s thighs where Katya slapped them, ghostly imprints of her hands on her skin.

Katya continues to laugh, out of what seems to be pure enjoyment of the entire situation, as she reaches to her bedside drawer to grab lube, and then she’s covering two square fingers with it, tapping Violet’s thigh to allow her access, still facing each other. Violet watches her face as she slips both fingers inside her, feels herself begin to sweat immediately behind her knees. Katya’s bangs are totally fucked, matted in some places so that they stick straight up. Her crow’s feet deepen with her grin.

“God. I can never let you go, now,” Katya laughs. Violet is dripping everywhere, just as Katya gently fucks her with her fingers, watching her, completely enthralled. “You are a million something else’s.”

Violet snorts at the romancing, but inside her everything is building up almost painfully- Katya’s fingers fill her up, brush ever softly against her prostate, and Katya’s breasts bounce with each movement of her arm. 

“I think I need more champagne,” Violet rasps, and Katya wheezes a long giggle, and her fingers go deeper, and she bends down to kiss Violet’s dick- right at the base, with a tiny bit of tongue, and Violet is coming, into Katya’s hair, Katya laughing and falling on top of her.

She pulls out of Violet gingerly, kisses her stomach and thighs, where her handprints are. Violet can’t feel her legs, but she beckons Katya to sit on her chest with one finger, and Katya does so dutifully. She’s almost featherlight, but she still cuts off Violet’s airflow, and the slight dizziness makes her nearly hard again, immediately. She presses one hand on Katya’s lower stomach, on the slight curve of her soft belly, and uses the other to slowly stroke her, until she’s sniffing tears dripping down her nose.

Katya comes right in Violet’s face- something she’s never wanted before, but something that now has her whining at an embarrassing pitch- Katya humming tuneless sounds atop her. Katya puts her fingers to her cheeks, spreads herself into Violet’s mouth, and Violet sucks on her fingers, beneath her tongue.

It’s after, when they’ve taken an absolutely necessary shared shower, that they finish the champagne. Violet pushes the dirty sheets to the floor, and Katya brings out a soft blue blanket to spread over them. Katya lights candles around the room, filling it with fresh pine scent, and Violet falls asleep buzzed in her warm arms. Her nose is right up against Katya’s heartbeat, and she dreams about a constant, gentle thumping, and Katya taking her out to dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :') They

Katya calls her up on Tuesday, breathing hot and heavy down the phone. She sounds either in the middle of it or fresh-done, and Violet ignores the sexual overtones merely because she doesn’t really know what to do with them. She feels awkward. She hasn’t really hooked up with anyone who has ever called her back. But she likes Katya a lot, and they plan to meet at a coffee shop near Katya’s house. Violet doesn’t have the heart to tell her that it’s a bit of a trek from her place. It’s mostly because she finds that she doesn’t mind.

She wears fleece-lined tights to the coffee shop. It’s about nine degrees, colder than Violet is prepared for, but her hot pink thigh-high platform boots keep her knees warm. She wears a red lip, leaves her hair down in loose curls, wrestles her part to the side to give a bit more volume. She slips on a tight black dress right before leaving, knowing that she’ll change a thousand times if she thinks too hard about it. She regrets not wearing her oversized yellow scarf with her trench coat the moment she steps foot outside of her apartment.

Katya is late to their date. Violet is neither surprised nor happy about it, but when she comes flying in the door to the café, hair everywhere, static electricity fanning out the top layer above her red scarf, she can’t help but laugh. People sitting around her turn to stare. 

“Miss Violet,” Katya says. Her smile is wide and just peeking out of her giant scarf. “I am _so_ fucking happy to see you.”

Violet is happy too. Katya is wearing all red: a patent leather miniskirt, red patterned tights, a cropped red turtleneck sweater. She has red lace socks peeking out of the top of her red Converse hi-tops. Absolutely blasphemous. She’s grinning like an idiot, and hangs her red trench coat on the hook on the wall, making visible her tiny cross-body beaded purse. She looks incredible, and Violet feels both underdressed and dour, before Katya’s raised eyebrows make a detour to Violet’s hot-pink boots. It comforts her, and gives her the boost of confidence she needs.

“I’m happy to see you too,” Violet cannot stop herself from smiling. Her cheeks hurt, and she feels like she looks goofy, but Katya is leaning over her to kiss her cheek, red lips just barely brushing against her skin. 

Katya orders the both of them scones and coffee. Violet waits patiently as Katya rocks from right to left in front of the counter, smiles at her encouragingly when she looks back to make a scrunched-up, dissatisfied face. 

“So. Tell me more about yourself,” Katya says, once she’s returned. She sits with one leg curled beneath herself and the other crossed over her knee. Her hot latte foggs up her glasses. 

Violet spends the next three hours sitting with Katya, leaning in closely and breathing in her hot coffee breath. It’s wonderful. Katya insists that Violet tell her everything about the work she’s doing at the magazine, and how exactly she plans to make it to _Vogue_ within five years. She looks strangely dejected at the prospect of Violet moving to Paris, which gives Violet a tight thrill in the depths of her stomach. Katya’s big, green eyes make her nervous at first, but eventually enchant her so that she’s telling her her deepest fears about her future, that she’ll be a token at _Vogue_ , that nobody will ever take her seriously, that she’ll never get the experience she needs to rise to the top. Especially not with taking her current on-and-off drag jobs here and there.

Katya provides more secrets about herself: she doesn’t know if she wants to keep with her art, she’s mostly trying to attach herself to wonderful people that make her happy, she might want to go to fashion design school. Violet isn’t bluffing when she says that she thinks she’d be amazing at it. 

It’s only then that they realize that it truly has been three hours. Katya is on her fourth latte, and Violet’s coffee is mostly sugar at the bottom of her cup. Katya slips fingers through Violet’s, cool pale fingers that Violet can feel on her thighs again upon impact. She guides Violet out the door, and leads the way down the street to her place. Violet can see the red house from two whole blocks away.

“Wait. Where do you live, again? I forget,” Katya says. She’s chewing gum loudly. It would bother Violet if it were anyone else. Her last girlfriend was dumped half because Violet couldn’t reconcile with how loudly she would eat.

“God. I haven’t told you. Across town,” Violet confesses. Katya makes an affronted gasp, pulls Violet closer into her side. She had linked arms with her once they had left the warmth of the café. 

“Shut up. And I let you come all this way? I don’t know why I assumed you were nearby,” Katya mumbles. She seems truly apologetic, and Violet scratches her palm gently. Her skin is hot and smooth. It makes Violet’s head spin, knowing that she’ll be touching Katya _all over_ again once they reach her house. 

“It’s okay. It’s a good thing I like you so much,” Violet says. Katya huffs, and helps Violet up the stairs. She locks the door behind them and is on Violet immediately.

“I want to do all sorts of things to you. Since you left, I’ve just been thinking about you. More than any of my usual hookups.” Katya’s hands are in Violet’s hair, slowly pulling through. The slight tightness and pain at her scalp makes Violet shiver, and one of her ankles almost gives out. Her boots give her an almost comical height advantage over Katya. 

“Yeah. Me too. Not that- that I have that many usual hookups. Busy with work…” Violet rambles. Katya smiles softly, kisses her chastely. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. Violet shakes her head, allows Katya to slowly pull off her boots and place them at the doormat of the studio. She follows Katya back up the stairs again, and it feels decidedly different, now that it’s late afternoon instead of the late evening. It feels closer. Katya’s hips wiggle a little, and Violet cannot help herself from grasping her ass gently.

Katya giggles, and they collapse into Katya’s bed (different sheets this time, pale blue with tiny roses). Katya kisses her and they both strip and Katya stands and stretches, so that Violet can see absolutely all of her in the golden sunset that’s peeking through the window. Her breasts bounce as she sits back down on the bed, facing away from Violet, right leg draped over her left.

Katya undoes her hair, and Violet watches as it falls down across her back. Brushing across her pale skin, her waist bending. Violet’s heart is in her throat, staring at the back of her, her soft ass and her sharp elbows that are a sweet shade of pink.

“Violet?” Katya whispers. Violet crawls to her, wraps an arm around her waist, pulls her backwards onto Violet’s chest. She smells like wool and coffee, her sweat making their skin stick together. Violet places a hand on her stomach, presses her fingers in. Katya sighs, turns her head to kiss at Violet’s jaw clumsily. 

“I really, really like you,” Violet says. It sounds too loud for Katya’s bedroom, but it comes out of her without warning. Katya makes a small, delighted sound. She turns around, skin sticking and pinching, smeared red lips coming to Violet’s for a kiss that is slower and more chaste than Violet would think her capable of. It’s patient. It makes her insides burst into flames. Her hands reach to Katya’s breasts before her mind registers what they are doing.

“I really like you too,” Katya says. “I want to keep seeing you, again and again. I think you’re beautiful and hilarious and fun. I want you to move in with me, and I want us to have a shared bank account.”

Violet snorts, squeezes Katya’s side so that she gasps.

“You bitch. I wouldn’t have much to contribute to that,” she says. Katya laughs and kisses her again, and again. 

“You’re right. And you’d spend it all on clothes,” she says lowly. And her hands are moving to Violet’s ass, fingers digging in so deliciously hard. “I like the noises you make.”

Katya is so frank, she would seem almost cold if it weren’t for the crazy eyes she’s always giving Violet, staring straight into her soul. It makes Violet dizzy. The room seems to blur around them as Katya kisses her neck, bites down. 

“Violet.” Katya’s head swings up. Her bright eyes are crinkled at the sides. Her teeth are so big that Violet wants to know what it feels like to have them inside her head. “I want you to eat my pussy. Please eat my pussy, oh my God.”

She’s collapsing a little onto Violet, as if her own begging has her sprung to all hell. Violet’s dick throbs, and she takes in a shuddering breath, Katya’s eyes flitting from her lips to her eyes to her lips again. Her jaw looks loose, and her pussy is burning hot against Violet’s leg.

“Yeah,” is all that Violet can even try to say. Katya’s arms strain with the effort of lifting herself up, lying back down against the pillow beside Violets.

“Violet. Hurry, please. Hurry up, I love your mouth,” Katya breathes. Violet somehow finds her lips on Katya’s hip, the curve of her muscle soft and pillowy. She kisses, strokes her tongue across ever so slightly, can hear Katya cut off a whimper.

“Okay. I’m, okay,” Violet whispers. Katya’s fingers dig into her scalp. Katya’s pussy is all pink and Violet’s mouth is watering, her eyes burning, and she sucks her down with little fanfare, Katya’s stomach caving in with the feeling.

“Yeah, please, Violet, eat my pussy,” Katya says. Her voice is impossibly high and breathy, in the heavens. She keeps saying it, repeating, and she is burning hot in Violet’s mouth to match. Violet looks upwards to see a single tear tracking from Katya’s right eye into her hairline. It feels like she can feel Katya’s skin from the inside. She is so beautiful at the end of her rope, her hair a tangled disaster and her pussy throbbing in Violet’s mouth.

She’s coming before Violet can even truly get her bearings. Her brain is so depleted of critical thought that she allows Katya to fill her mouth, she chokes halfway through to spit most of her out, spilling down her chin. 

“Oh my god,” Katya says. She waves her hands to take Violet’s shoulders in them, guides her up to kiss her sloppily. 

Violet spits some of Katya’s come into her mouth. Her shoulder is slotted in Katya’s sweaty armpit, which somehow makes her dick cry out desperately for attention. Violet makes the only noise she can muster in the moment- some kind of awful, womanly squawk, and Katya’s sweaty palms are dragging down her waist.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Katya whispers. Violet gasps into her mouth, and comes with Katya’s fingers hot around her.

“You liked that. Me eating your pussy,” Violet says, once they’ve slept atop each other for a few moments, or forever. It’s dark out. Violet hasn’t looked at Katya’s alarm clock. Katya’s answering, booming laugh sends Violet into sympathetic hysterics. “I’m being serious! I want to make you happy.”

“Yeah. And you did, and my pussy. It’s why it was so quick. No apologies.” Katya’s pussy is now warm against Violet’s thigh. She’s so much smaller than Violet, a miniature woman that hangs on like a koala. Violet thinks she’s lucky to even think about her, let alone know her. In another world, she thinks they would still have met. It would never be nearly as nice as this, though.

Katya’s minimalist bedroom is warm despite the damp cold of Boston winter. Their ankles are draped over each others’, Katya is stroking Violet’s elbow: up and down, side to side. It gives her goosebumps.

“I was being serious, earlier. About the bank account. Not really- I mean. Really, but. I like you, and I would love for this to continue.” And Katya is back with the heartfelt earnestness. Violet’s heart grows hot, beats against Katya’s breasts.

“I was being serious too. About everything,” Violet says. Katya smiles, shuts her eyes. Violet drifts off starving and exhausted but content. Katya’s hands remain around her waist, fingers twitching every so often with her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks :)


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